Mary Matsuda Gruenewald - Becoming Mama-San: 80 Years of Wisdom

80 Years of Wisdom

Mary Matsuda Gruenewald

NEWSAGE PRESS
Troutdale, Oregon

BECOMING MAMA-SAN: 80 YEARS OF WISDOM

Copyright 2013 Mary Matsuda Gruenewald

ISBN 978-0-93916-563-6

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any form or by any means without permission from the publisher.

NEWSAGE PRESS

PO Box 607

Troutdale, OR 97060-0607

503-695-2211

www.newsagepress.com

Cover and interior design by Sherry Wachter.

www.sherrywachter.com

This book is also available as an ebook.

Distributed to bookstores by Perseus Books (Publishers Group West).

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Gruenewald, Mary Matsuda, 1925-Becoming mama-san : 80 years of wisdom / by Mary Matsuda Gruenewald.

pages cm

Includes bibliographical references.

1. Gruenewald, Mary Matsuda, 1925- 2. Conduct of life. I. Title.

> BJ1547.5.G78A3 2013

> 170.44--dc23

> 2013006038

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For Mama-San

W ith new projects come new reasons for feeling grateful and expressing appreciation. I continue to feel supported and cared for by my writing teacher, Brenda Peterson, and my publisher, Maureen R. Michelson, as well as my classmates Meredith Bailey, Kathryn Barrett, Pamela Dodson, and Kimberly Richardson, among others.

My special thanks to Miyoko Matsuda, my sister-in-law, and Martha Matsuda, my daughter, for accompanying me to Japan in 2006 (among many other reasons). My hosts in Japan made extraordinary efforts on my behalf. Thanks to Donna Fujimoto in Osaka; Marie Tsuruda, Caroline Lloyd, and Naomi Fujishima in Hiroshima; and Samantha Lim at the Tokyo American Club. Masako Iino laid the foundation for my trip two years earlier, and visiting her at Tsuda College was one of many highlights of the trip. My friend Yoshiko Koga-san gave generously of her time, including guiding us on an amazing tour of Tokyo to visit important historical sites.

Meeting my relatives from Japan for the first time was a life-altering experience for me. The generosity of Muneaki Horie and his wife, Kayoko, was astounding. It was also a pleasure to meet their two sons, Munekazu and Toshihiro. We went with them as their guests to the famous Buddhist monastery at Koyasan for a vegetarian meal, a tradition Japanese public bath, and overnight accommodations on traditional Japanese futons. Most amazing of all was meeting Muneakis mother, Shizuko Horie. Being received into her home was like meeting the sister I never had.

Hiroshi and Sadako Kashiwagi, and their son, Soji, came into my life at the perfect moment. We helped each other heal our final wounds from the internment experience, and we remain close friends.

I get much of my energy from my special friends, some of whom I have known for decades: Wendy Noritake, Glenda Pearson, Linda Ando, Jan Crosman, and especially John Runyan. I thank all of you for your kindness and support.

It has been a privilege watching my four nieces grow into fine role models: Marlene Fong, Kathryn Nagao, Marguerite Sandico, and Sheila Chan. You and your families are a delight and an ongoing source of joy for me.

As for my immediate family, I couldnt be more grateful. Martha, David, and Ray, I am incredibly proud of each of you as you continue on your life journeys, being true to yourselves. I have enjoyed watching you develop into wonderful human beings, from the time you were born until now, as I move into my elder years. My deepest thanks go to my brother Yoneichi, my father Papa-san, and of course, Mama-san. They are all long-since deceased, but they still live in my heart and continue to teach me lifes most important lessons.

I t was a perfect midsummer evening on Vashon Island, a short ferry ride from Seattle, and Mount Rainier was glowing a beautiful pink to the southeast of our farm. This was the very best time of the year for Mama-san and I to savor the beauty of the fields, when the harvest was complete and we had time to reflect. She liked to pass on her appreciation for life during our walks.

I am so grateful that the harvest went well this year, she said, in her formal Japanese. Do you remember how hard the four of us worked this spring?

From where we were standing, we could look around and see all ten acres of our farm. Tidy rows of strawberry plants covered gently rolling hills. Our modest farmhouse stood in one corner of the property, with the barn nearby.

I am very proud of how well you and Yoneichi-san worked together, Mama-san added. Now, you can see that it all paid off.

She sighed with contentment as her eyes swept over the landscape. Her smile was all I ever needed to feel secure and seen.

As we turned to continue our walk, a flash of red in the next row over caught my attention. I bent down and parted the green leaves. Look, theres one for each of us.

I handed her the larger of the two, last-of-the-season berries and we ate them, nodding at each other.

My mother, Mitsuno Horie Matsuda, was the kindest, wisest person I have ever met. I spent my childhood wanting to please her. As a young adult, I rebelled against her, and against her culturally-based expectations for me. More recently, and especially since her passing in 1965, I have tried to become as much like her as I possibly can.

Mama-san was born in 1892 in Japan, a proud and ancient culture. In 1922, she married my father and came to America, intending to live and die here. In Looking Like the Enemy, I wrote of how my mothers wisdom rescued me from the depths of despair during my most challenging times in the Japanese-American concentration camps. In the most difficult of circumstances, she remained amazingly resilient and optimistic, even while those around her felt hopeless. When my publisher asked me to write another book, I knew that my mother would be its focus.

Mama-sans wisdom developed and deepened while she raised a family, earned a living through hard physical labor, and faced severe discrimination in her adopted country. It was only as I pondered the materials for this book that I came to fully appreciate the elegance of her beliefs and how important a role model she could benot just for me, but for others as well. As I observe the 21st century begin to unfold, the power of her message from the 19th century seems more applicable than ever.

MARY MATSUDA GRUENEWALD
January 2013

L ike most of my peers, I have always used the phrase internment camps as a polite way of describing the confinement of me, my family, and tens of thousands of other Japanese Americans during World War II. In July, 2012, I attended a meeting of the National Japanese American Citizens League in Bellevue, Washington. Professor Lane Hirabayashi and activist Martha Nakagawa gave convincing arguments for the use of the term concentration camps instead of internment camps. I realized that I need to use accurate vocabulary to more honestly label the experience and not shy away from uncomfortable truths. I would like to thank the people who had the courage to press this issue, and I have incorporated the new terminology in this book.